


Melkor's Firm Hand of Discipline

by Silmarils (semit)



Series: Melkor's Choice [9]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angband, BDSM, Dominance, Gen, Light BDSM, Mild Kink, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24289312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semit/pseuds/Silmarils
Summary: May 21, 2020 - Melkor doles out discipline to his Maia. In the absence its king, Angband has fallen into disarray under the temporary stewardship of Tevildo. Sweet retribution is in order. Thank you sir may I have another?To skip to the whipping bit, scroll down to the * * *  triple asterisks.
Relationships: Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor & Sauron | Mairon, Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor & Tevildo, Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor/Sauron | Mairon, Morgoth Bauglir | Melkor/Tevildo
Series: Melkor's Choice [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648705
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	Melkor's Firm Hand of Discipline

“Our troops have performed adequately,” Melkor mused as he gazed inked over his laboring armies. Not high atop the tower, he stood instead at the front lines of action with two trusted Maia stiffly at his side, “Very well indeed.” Quickly the armies toiled, piling pillaged heaps of grain, animal carcasses, and swollen fruits to satiate Angband for weeks. Though herds of grazing animals filled the tundra around Angband, the growing season was short, and famine often threatened.

This time was different than the yearly scarcity. The starvation was so critically dire that Melkor sensed that riots would erupt and potentially degrade to ferocity.

But no more. They were saved by the pillaging armies.

Still, Melkor mused, _Why did Tevildo allow Angband to slip into famine? We were well provisioned. The fool!_

“The supplies are ready for transport,” a dark elf sergeant bowed to his Lord. Grunting his thanks, the dark one issued his orders, “Bring the carts here while we makes ready,” and Melkor a hand of dismissal at the elf.

The reprovisioning of Angband was nigh. Knowing that his Lord would soon depart, arcs of sorrow flowed through Mairon’s fëa. With such a recent victory, the red Maia was commanded not to oversee their newly conquered land. This was a task the Mairon did not savor since it meant separation from his beloved. With a heavy sigh, Mairon stilled his heart as the absence of his Master would likely be short. 

It was with a burning amber eye that Mairon beheld the blonde hair of the pleasure elf nearing a cart bound for Angband. Clearly the elf had intentions to accompany its Master to the stronghold. As it ascended a wagon, the eyes of elf and Maia happened upon each other. Crookedly the Eldar smiled with a murmur of clear defiance and challenge. To this, Mairon made clear his displeasure with a scowl. Oh, but you will die terribly, elf! Why do you goad me when you would surely be bested in any contest? But now is not the time for such combat.

Indeed, the departure to Angband drew near as the Dark Vala paced with uneasy energy about the courtyard to gauge where to place the portal of transportation. Requisite was a gateway between the two kingdoms of Angband to the West and Malgorian to the East for the distance between the captured land and his stronghold was great. Furiously he paced for Melkor had to not only assess where and how to place the entrance of the doorway here in Malgorian, but also where to manifest its twin exit in Angband. Hmmm. A portal the width and height of three carts should suffice to allow the transport of goods. And near the east side of Angband I see a piece of flat land with sufficient roads to move supplies, he mused.

On an exhale, he sent out his will to conjure the gateway between the two lands. With such an expression of power, a thunderous crack and terrible wind smacked the air mixed with the unlight of his power. At this display and throb, many of the weaker servants cowered to the dirt in dread. Then the portal simply… was. A thing of pulsing puissance it was, a mirror ringed in the violent glow of his being. A thing through which armies and foodstuffs could traverse to feed the hungry mouths of Angband. Before the newly formed doorway, he stood tall and dark as all stared at the glowing, black silhouette of his body.

Melkor was the first to walk through alone, and all continued to gaze upon his departure and the sensual manner of his gait. A certain feline Maia needed his personal ministrations in Angband. Although Mairon was originally tasked with assessing the damage of starvation in Angband, Melkor now chose to grant Tevildo his dearest attentions himself. Now through the portal but still visible, he snapped his fingers—a gesture which Gothmog knew indicated that he bring the carts of goods through the threshold. He complied and urged the trolls to pull forward.

Methinks I have only explored a portion of mine new power, he thought in self reflection as he walked toward the tower, Perhaps, more discovery and great destructive feats are in order. He thought of the other Vala and of his brother in particular. Vengeance. Although forbidden from attacking the Noldor and Sindar, there were other elves which were not banned from his dark annihilation. Men, and dwarves he could also give his black love.

It was then that like a whip, a terrible stench oiled through the cold air. So foul it was to interrupt his thoughts of retribution and enslavement, it prompted his head to swivel for its source. As he trod on, the origin of the foul odor revealed itself in its stinking glory for he approached the lifeless shell of a troll. A large troll. A large yet somehow shriveled troll, but the beast was not withered in death. It had shrunken in life and it was achingly clear that it had died in agonized starvation.

“Tevildo!!” he called, and the ground trembled to shake even the great wooden wheels of the wagons that trailed his lead. Swiftly then a black clad boot kicked the troll corpse in furious wrath to release a black smoke of flies and spilling squirts of wriggling maggots from within. “Tevildo!!” That cat will be skinned slowly! But no answer came. Surely Tevildo must have heard the voice of his Master since it echoed across both of his kingdoms.

Slamming open the east gates of the tower with an explosive bang, all citizens of Angband felt the eminent approach of their Lord. Thusly, a pod of uruks came to greet their Master in welcome, “My Lord,” hailed their leader as he bowed low, but soon the orc’s eyes lit upon the wagons of provisions in obvious hunger.

Melkor nodded to the orc and continued in the direction of the east tower entrance where the kitchens and dry storage lay. Gothmog and his soldiers made quick work to shelve the many provisions and riches of Malgorian, and soon the word of the bounty spread among Angband’s residents as the kitchen fires lit. Officers and soldiers were commanded to go to the Great Hall where they ate and gathered instead of the throne room. They knew they were to feast, and excitement amplified manifold at this prospect. Melkor had a perch in the hall when he chose to dwell in the room, and he assumed the throne that headed the hall with his balrog Captain and elf pet at hand. The Malgor man, Yannis, had accompanied them from his native land more out of curiosity than compulsion or necessity.

Wisely the Dark Vala knew to hold his address until his soldiers and servants had sated their ravenous bellies with the delicacies of plunder. Shame though, such creatures would never appreciate the finer foodstuffs. It’s like giving an excellent cut of meat to a cat. A cat! He growled, “Where is Tevildo?!” he asked of a dark elf who sat at a close table.

“He said he will join shortly, my Lord,” the elf had stood to answer and bowed. A wicked scar carved down this elf’s face from some battle, a battle in which he was clearly the victor for he still lived.

“Any news of the captive Thuringwethil?" Melkor flipped to the topic of his imprisoned Maia as was his nature, "She needs some discipline for allowing her foolish imprisonment by the elves,”

“I know not, my Lord,”

“Hmmph! Incompetence,” and Melkor set forth the tendrils of his thought to the topic at hand, to locate his errant Maia Tevildo. His blue physical eyes moved in parallel to the exploration of his fëa through the dark halls and horrors of Angband. Rapidly then his mind darted through passages high, low, and deep before fixing on the form of Tevildo in human form. He was nearby. Clothed in black velvet with black hair tied back, Tevildo cowered in a seldom used spiral staircase only two floors above. “Tevildo,” the walls purred with the voice of their Master, “Why do you hide?” the Maia trembled terribly, “Come to me,” Melkor’s tone was a coy command to which Tevildo had to submit.

“Yes, Lord,” he did not look up as he stood to obey. Satisfied, Melkor let his presence melt away from the staircase as Tevildo shuddered in terror. Slowly and with deep trepidation, he began the short journey to join his Lord.

Cheers filled the Great Hall with the serving of food and ale. So ravenous were many that some regurgitated when sustenance finally filled their guts. Despite their hunger, there were those who crinkled their noses at the foreign fruits and meats in disgust, but anything cast aside was quickly consumed with the greed of starvation.

“Gothmog, you shall need to perform an assessment of troops to determine how many were lost.”

“Yes, I can see from the numbers here that some have perished or are suspiciously absent without leave. I’m sure we can round up any deserters and burn the bodies of those that died,”

“Indeed,” and Melkor was given a tankard of his favorite wine. He scanned for his elf, and found him now at a nearby table in cheerful discourse with his dark brethren. I will leave him be. For now. He smiled with overt lasciviousness and caught the elf’s eye. He knew. They both knew. Later.

Another now caught the attention of his Lord. Tevildo had come.

Standing tall and demanding command, Melkor raised his hand to silence the crowd in the Great Hall. After a few moments of diminishing din, voices stilled though they continued to eat and drink with abandon.

“I bring you bounty from the conquered land to the East. This kingdom called Malgorian I have annexed to mine own in Angband. Near the east gate I have established a permanent, yet guarded, gateway between the two kingdoms,” Melkor ensured that his voice also transmuted into the very walls so that all those not present, solider and servant alike, could hear of his victory, “Great riches now add to the might of Angband, and we shall conquer yet more lands to the far East and far South as is mine right. We shall prosper and trade and thrive to the heights of splendor!”

“Yet something troubles me,” he brought a clawed finger to his chin, “That you felt hunger concerns me,” blue eyes lit with fury slid toward Tevildo who alone stood between the center aisle of tables. “Tevildo!” he thundered, “How could this come to pass? The affairs of Angband were in order when I left. You were well provisioned. How could the seat of mine power come to hunger so quickly?”

Tevildo gave the appearance of a contrite child as his mind whirred to either manufacture an answer or speak truly. He wisely chose to speak truly for he knew the depth of his Master’s might, a power that now topped heights beyond reason as never before. The mightiest of the Vala was Melkor and he was just teasing the edges of what he was now capable—and capable he was of shredding this Maia’s mind and body into shards of insanity and pain if it pleased him.

“I...,” Tevildo exhaled loudly and time passed. Melkor allowed him time. Some time, but still the Vala’s hands gripped the throne’s armrest, “I... We celebrated,” the Maia admitted.

“Celebrated? Go on,”

“We celebrated and feasted, and depleted our stores,”

“Mine stores, you mean. It must have been a truly hedonistic and debauched celebration to drain all of mine stores. A celebration to which you did not extend your Lord an invitation. Dare I look in our coffers?”

The green eyes of the Maia fell to the floor, for he had spent a substantial amount of gold and selfishly raided their potent medicines as well to intoxicate himself. Still he knew that Melkor’s questions were never rhetorical and demanded reply, “A good third of the coffers have been… divested.”

“Divested?” now Melkor stood with a dangerous glint in his eye. Luckily, he now had resources to tap from the conquered land of Malgorian. Had he not, this depletion would have been disastrous for his kingdom. Winters in Angband were brutal, and he now was forbidden from harassing money and provisions in violence from the elves. “Tevildo, what would you recommend I do with you?”

Again, an answer was required, “I must be... reprimanded,”

“Punish you? Yes.” Melkor drew close to the stricken Maia and traced his hand on his abdomen, then his side, then his backside, then his other side as he circled in threateningly yet enticingly. With a sort of ironic humor, he sent visions and sensations of arousal to Tevildo to make it so much worse and humiliating, “Punish you? Not kill you, you say?”

“Yes, punish me. I still wish to serve you,”

“Yet you stole from me. This action is an insult. Do you agree?” Melkor’s fury stoked higher.

“Yes,” Tevildo trembled.

“Do I need to discipline anyone else?”

“Just me, Angband was my charge, and I failed, Lord. I failed.”

“Yes, You did!” and Melkor’s tender viciousness was unleashed for he grabbed the Maia's black hair and dragged him staggeringly to the throne. With a cutting motion of his fingers, he severed Tevildo’s waist-length hair to a jagged chin-length fray. Humiliation. Tevildo knew where he was taken, to the manacles that hung on the wall some paces to the left of the throne. The cuffs were on the platform of the dais since Melkor always wanted all to share in his entertainment. Strangely though, in all his years of service, Tevildo was the only Maia who had never been publicly disciplined. It was simply his turn. Truly though his crime was severe since Tevildo's permissive indulgence had resulted in the deaths of twenty of Melkor’s soldiers and servants. A dark crust of old blood flaked off the manacles as Melkor thrust Tevildo’s wrists into the cold circles.

“What slays me is that though many have died, you lived. You made sure that you yourself had enough to eat. I know that you are of the Maia that must eat,”

“And shit!!” Yelled Gothmog, “If he eats he shits!” Laughter rang out from soldier, servant, slave, and Melkor himself.

“You know, Tevildo, I am now a more refined healer. So that means that I can rip you apart, heal you, and do it again anew in cycles of pain,” This was a lie, for he did not know, in fact, if he tore a limb off his Maia if he could regrow it. He had not tried this yet in his experiments to test the new power of the Flame Imperishable. He could regrow his own limbs, but those of others he did not know. Likely he could do so, but he simply has not yet endeavored to explore the potential of limb renewal of others.

“But today,” proclaimed Melkor, “I will flay the skin from you,” Tevildo’s conviction was therefore decided, and from under the throne Melkor revealed a wicked whip.

* * *

In one fluid motion, Melkor tore the velvet shirt from the Maia Tevildo's back to expose his pale skin and the hard lines of too thin chest. No need to brush aside any hair aside since Tevildo's was already shorn—a shame that would take years to rectify.

Stilling himself, the Maia placed his palms flat against the wall. The manacles were welded to a long chain with enough length to provide Melkor with options, to place his hands high above his head, or lower. It was the Master's choice. The end result would be the same. In fact, the cuffs were not even locked, and Tevildo could remove them voluntarily at any time. He chose to stay with Melkor and receive his punishment, but he also chose to allow his people to starve due to his actions. Thusly, he knew he deserved this since his Master provided for his every need, and still he betrayed his Lord.

 _Crack!_ The pain was terrible! The red whip essentially a customized a cat o’ nine tails that Melkor would lovingly maintain after each flogging, tying knots of whatever he desired into its lashes.

 _Crack!_ Melkor had afixed glass, metal, and bits of things to ensure that the touch was most unique and never the same. A crap shoot for the recipient!

 _Crack!_ There was one critical feature of the whip which added to the unique experience. It was a tiny metal ball with little toothed spikes. It was this that caused the most damage. For now, three circular bleeding kisses from the lash gleamed on Tevildo’s back.

It was excruciating beyond measure, but Melkor had just begun to deploy the technique he had perfected over the millennia. First, start slow, then fast to a breathless climax of lashings. After ten minutes, the Maia’s back was a minefield of craters from that one piece of iron on the whip. _I must add more of those miniature maces to mine red delights!_ Melkor thought.

Tevildo tried not to scream of course.

_They all try not to cry out. They all lose!_

_Every._

_Single._

_Time._

Now it was that Melkor accelerated his expertly delivered discipline to a mounting fury, driving Tevildo to grunt and his body to twitch with each shocking blow. And of when Tevildo cried out in agony, Melkor smiled. It was then that Melkor deployed a bit of his power to drive a fierce wind around the room. This was done for no reason except to stoke his pleasure for every time he let loose his power, ecstasy would course through his being. Melkor sighed as rapture flooded his body and he gasped at the obscene sensation. This time, he pushed the pleasure from the core of his hröa to that of Tevildo causing the Maia great conflict at the contrasting sensations.

“I do it for you,” Melkor whispered in his ear breathlessly and stroked the ragged tatters of Tevildo’s hair, “I do it for mine kingdoms. I do it to elevate you, to make you better,” so quiet he spoke, “And I know you’ll never betray me again!!” he let loose a terrible barrage of strokes on the Maia’s back, his sides, shredding the velvet from his arse and thighs. And Tevildo shrieked so wretchedly. Now we go to begging, thought Melkor, and right on cue came the pleas.

“Please stop, Master!” he gasped and screamed at once, “I’m sorry!”

“But I’m not sorry,” Melkor soothed, and another wave of horrific slashes set the Maia’s body into spasms. When that mini mace somehow angled to hit Tevildo’s chest, he spun around in the chains. Now a rain of fury pounded his chest. Pure anguish.

“My Lord, I beg you to stop! Please!”

“Beg me? Go on,” and finally came the pause.

“I implore you to stop whipping me. I am sorry for my actions.”

“What actions?” Melkor needed him to say it.

“I was permissive, and allowed our provisions to be spent in repeated celebrations that you did not authorize. I indulged and permitted indulgence, and caused Angband to starve. But you have saved us with the provisions from a conquered land," he flattered but sincerely, "I will never do such a thing again and will henceforth consider our kingdom above my own desires,”

Melkor tapped the red handle of the whip on his chin in a pensive stance with weight borne on one leg, “Hmmm.”

Awash in his own blood, Tevildo was breathless and exhausted. Truly though he did regret his actions. Of course, Melkor probed his mind to assess if the Maia was repentant or only wished an end to the pain. Searching his mind, it was clear Tevildo was both—he was both remorseful and did also seek the secession of agony. Sufficient.

“Hmmph,” the Dark Lord pulled free the hands from the manacles, and released from them now, Tevildo collapsed. “I am not pleased, Tevildo. We shall see if I shall heal you. Ask me in an hour. Go sit with your colleagues if you can. I care not.” But Melkor did care though he’d never admit it.

“Thank you, Lord,” and Tevildo was thankful since though the Vala was cruel, Melkor did elevate and better all of his Maia in some twisted way.


End file.
